Sohlsteim
by The Invisible Sky Wizard
Summary: A short story of a pair of Wood Elf brothers. Rated for some violence. Rate & Review!


Sohlsteim

A Morrowind Fanfiction from ArktheMushroom

A/N: This is just a short story, about two brothers in the world of Morrowind. I came up with the idea after having some fun terrorizing people in the game, and raiding places for fun. Not too much action, and it's pretty tame, for one of my stories. I guess its more sad than it is anything else.

--

"Come on, Alcarga. Move your ass."

A young Wood Elf stood alone, in the shade of a massive tree, his arms crossed over his bare chest, tapping one booted foot in impatience. Ahorga, the Elf in quest, stood around five foot seven, naturally slim, but rather muscular for an Elf. His brown hair was set in spikes, and his dark skin was marked at the neck, chest, and upper arms with white war paint, his dark eyes on a plain wooden door set into a cave. He wore brown fur gloves, greaves, and boots, wearing plain, blue pants.

The cave in question was similar to the places he and his brother often hit; dens full of rogues, barbarians, spellcasters, or any of the other professions, usually a mix, and almost always with valuables, like gold, jewels, or magical armor and weapons. And since they almost always attacked on first sight, that led Ahorga to believe they were almost always evil. Why else would they keep slaves?

"Gods above and below, if you don't move your scrawny ass, I'll-"

"-you'll do what?"

"Gah!"

Ahorga nearly jumped a mile, and turned to find a grinning face staring at him, upside-down. He hadn't even heard Alcarga! Then again, that was the point, wasn't it? Smarmy little sneak-thief. His little brother almost resembled Ahorga in every way, but his face was maybe a little slimmer, he was bald, and he had considerably less muscle. The chitin armor he wore was stained dark, almost black, over plain, dark clothes. His ears were un-pierced, unlike Ahorga's, and he wore the goggle parts of the chitin face masks. He had his legs over a tree branch, arms folded.

"Well?" asked the older sibling.

"Perhaps twenty in all, and all of them rogues and barbarians."

"Twenty? Very unusual. They must-"

"-be hiding a lot of goodies? Oh, yes, brother, and _good_ ones, at that. And before you ask, no, they didn't see me. Ready?"

"You best believe it." Ahorga was a barbarian; a love for nature, hunting, and fighting brought him to the door of a local barbarian who could show him the way. Ahorga trained for a long time, while Alcarga joined up with a Thieves Guild in Balmora. Even though the Wood Elves weren't known very well for physical strength, his mentor showed him some techniques which could take care of the problem, as well as teaching him the secrets of the barbarian's 'Berserk' power, or in other terms, 'taking on the mind-set of the bear'.

That's what Ahorga was doing now; focusing his energy to work his adrenaline glands, to spread adrenaline pumping through his body, heightening his endorphins, and forcing power into his muscles. All at once, almost every muscle in his body swelled, until he more resembled the body of a very athletic human. But in actuality, he could now break an Orc in half...unless that Orc was also a barbarian.

With a roar, Ahorga launched forward, and kicked the door off of the hinges, watching it fly down the hallway. It didn't matter if they knew about them now. Ahorga slid his Nordic battleaxe from its sheath on his back, and pounded off down the hallway, Alcarga at his back, his bow with its magical fire-arrows at the ready.

"Brother? Do you ever feel regret afterward?"

"No."

"Yeah, me neither. You've already explained this to me, but I still feel uncomfortable sometimes."

"Why?" asked Ahorga, delivering a vicious punch to the stomach of a Dunmer conjurer, watching the man puke his guts out, before splitting his head open.

"Well, think about it," said Alcarga, sending an arrow into the chest of a human barbarian. "They always attack us first, which means they probably have something to hide. But, how many of these dens have we hit up over the years? Maybe they've heard of us by now. Maybe they're just scared."

"That could be. But, what else is there for us? Tomb-robbing? Those crypts never yield real valuables." Ahorga swung his axe with a roar of frustration, chopping a man in half at the waist. Alcarga sighed; something was wrong with Ahorga. Something was always wrong with his brother. He knew why.

"Brother...you're thinking of Sohlsteim again, aren't you?"

Ahorga stopped, taking a cudgel to the stomach. He gave a slight grunt, and slapped the woman holding it into a wall. "Well, yes," he admitted.

After their training had been over, Ahorga and Alcarga were always traveling, robbing crypts, searching (unsuccessfully) for old Dwemer ruins, and battling monsters and road-side, murderous robbers. They were sometimes out for days, but always had a home to return to.

'Those were the days,' though Alcarga.

But one time, there was no home to return to. They had come back from a successful raid, to find their home burnt to the ground. The locals had told them it was a group of bandits, wanting revenge. Their parents had been in the house at the time, and died in the fire. For a few months, there was an air of gloom about them, and that was the period of their lives when they were the least close.

But as the weeks went by, they slowly but surely learned to deal with the pain, and things had soon gone back to normal. But from then on, they were hunting, stealing, and killing to eat. To live. But they were happy. Ahorga was happy, though he never seemed complete. But at the time it hadn't bothered Alcarga, and he put it out of his mind.

But a little more than a year ago, they had the fortune of meeting a barbarian who had come from the far North, from Sohlsteim. He spoke of the harsh, snow-covered wildlands, the dangerous beasts and monsters, and the tribes of nomadic barbarians. Ahorga was captivated. He soon convinced Alcarga to save up some money from their adventures, to pay for a trip to Sohlsteim. Alcarga agreed, and they were soon on their way.

And then, something happened to Ahorga, something that had never occured in all their years together. When they arrived, Ahorga was almost wild with glee. He took delight in the challenges Sohlsteim offered. In traveling the unforgiving wildlands, braving harsh snowstorms and difficult paths and tangles of sparse forest. Tundra wolves, bears, and packs of roaming berserkers rose up to stop them, but Alcarga held back as Ahorga tore through all of them. Hunting the new, strange beasts for food, conversing and trading with the barbarians of Sohlsteim, and raiding the crypts of the lands, which were decorated differently than the ones near Seyda Neen, Balmora, and Ald-Ruhn.

Though it all, Alcarga stayed back to let Ahorga enjoy himself. This was _his_ trip, _his_ moment, and _his _time to shine, and Alcarga wouldn't get in the way of it. But Alcarga also enjoyed himself immensely. The new sights, the new beasts, the exotic people, and the breathtakingly beautiful sights Sohlsteim had to offer. It was a trip for Alcarga as well as Ahorga.

But it seemed to Alcarga that the wildlands, the nature, and the nights spent camping after hours of hunting beasts for food seemed to fill Ahorga with a sense of elation and serenity. The Wood Elf barbarian's spirit seemed, finally, to be whole and at peace with himself. He was finally, truly happy.

And after a year spent in Sohlsteim, they departed. Though Alcarga missed Sohlsteim and the fun they had, he knew that Ahorgha missed it greatly still. It seemed, always, to be calling to him. And though he and Alcarga were closer than ever, it seemed as though Ahorga was never quite the same after. As if a part of him was left behind, in Sohlsteim.

'Maybe one day, we can go back,' thought Alcarga.

As they headed up some wooden stairs, Ahorga picked up a female Dunmer rogue, and tossed her to the waters below. He watched as her head was dashed on the jagged rocks. Alcarga went through the boxes and two chests on the small platform. He let out a delighted laugh.

"Yee! A couple of rubies, a diamond, and a Spider Dagger! Not bad. They should have more goodies down below!"

"Then let's get moving, brother."

Alcarga swept the treasures into a burlap sack, and tied it at his waist. He noticed some moonsugar, and pocketed it secretly. Alcarga had a bit of a...problem with moonsugar. He was addicted to it.

They descended more stairs, Alcarga putting a few arrows into the eyes of a pair of Khajit barbarians in passing. They came to a rickety door, and Alcarga picked the lock, opening it to reveal a couple of slaves in enchanted bracers.

"Pleassse, help usss," begged one slave, an Argonian.

Ahorga nodded, and he and his brother were off down another stone hallway, the barbarian tearing out a large chunk of flesh and meat from the back of a small, wiry Altmer rogue as they passed her.

They were nearing the end of the den now, where a Khajit barbarian with a couple of keys on a ring guarded several large, heavy chests. The brothers grinned to each other; this would be all-too easy.

They pounded down the hall, Ahorga roaring in triumph. But it sooned turned into a frightened curse, as several Altmer mages phased into existence, banishing their Invisibility spells. Each one brought his or her hands up, and Alcarga moved quickly to push his brother out of the way as they each cast a terrible spell of rending.

"No!"

"_BROTHER_!!"

Ahorga felt himself pushed to the ground as the spells ripped into Alcarga, tearing his body open, burning him, poisoning him, shocking him, blood flying as his limp body fell to the ground, motionless. As the whites of his tear-rimmed eyes turned to a bright red that swallowed his irises and pupils, Ahorga sprung to his feet as Rage overtook his body. He slid his warhammer from its place at his side, now wielding two very heavy weapons in one hand each. He sprang at the spellcasters and the barbarian, screaming incoherently in a frenzy.

They faltered; the terrifying sight of the barbarian scared the wits out of the spellcasters. The barbarian launched himself at Ahorga, but felt both kneecaps shattered with a low sweep of the warhammer, and felt his head leave his neck as the battleaxe cleaved through him. Then came the spellcasters' turn.

Body parts, blood, and internal organs flew in al directions; the screams could have woken the dead. Ahorga wanted them to die slowly and painfully, as he hacked off or crushed limbs, and made swift, painful strikes in non-critical areas. Each spellcaster fell with a scream at his feet, wailing terribly, looking into his pain-and-rage-filled eyes and knowing that they had each made a terrible mistake, before a gore-covered hammer smashed their heads into the ground, splattering their brain-matter.

Dropping his weapons, Ahorga walked slowly, like a sleepwalker, over to his brother, falling to his knees. Then he gasped; Alcarga was alive!

"Bro...ther..." he said, blood dribbling from his mouth.

Ahorga shook his head. "Don't try to talk, brother. I can get you out of here."

"No...too late...it's all too late. Ahorga, I love you. You...know that. Please, listen...take what we h-have...and they have..." Alcarga paused, coughing, each cough racking his body with agonizing pain, "go back...go...back...to..."

"To where?" asked Ahorga, tears spilling down his face.

"To Sohlsteim. You w-were...were happiest...there. Go back...and be happy...brother...good...bye..."

Ahorga doubled over and began to sob; the light left Alcarga's eyes. He was gone, his battered, torn shell laying in a pool of blood on the floor of a dark, useless den so very like the hundreds of others in the world. He died in terrible pain, in this rotten place, but he died after having gotten to say all that he wanted and was important, and Ahorga knew that.

Ten minutes after, Ahorga left that place, after looting all of the boxes and chests and bodies in that place, except for Alcarga's. Be buried his brother with all of his gear, under that tree in front of the den, and afterwards, headed to Balmora to pawn everything for money. He bought what he would need in that city, including a Nordic fur cuirass and helmet, making sure to save enough money for the trip. And less than an hour later, found himself alone, on a boat, with the distant Sohlsteim coming closer and closer. He heeded his brothers' last words, he didn't wait, or linger. He did as his brother wanted, and felt the wild happiness fill his soul as it battled grief and loss.

And somewhere beyond the stars, the spirit of Alcarga smiled.

--

A/N: So, there it is. I hoped you enjoyed it. Let me know. -ArktheMushroom


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